Why I Feed My Kids Organic Vegetables—and Processed Candy

As far as I’m concerned, parenting is a series of well-informed but ultimately arbitrary decisions. At least, that’s how I've approached my kids' relationship to food. It’s not that we don’t have rules—we do—they’re just not necessarily rational. Sugar cereals? Definitely not (I wasn’t allowed, and neither was my husband). I stock regular stuff (Chex, Puffins), and serve it from big clear plastic bins so as to shield them from creepy kid marketing on the box itself. (Why do I do this? I don’t know.) Self-serve maple syrup from your own personal squeeze bottle? Fine, as long as it’s real syrup, and the kid is consuming whole-milk yogurt and fresh berries at the same time. I nursed both of my kids, but sometimes we needed formula, so I ordered an organic brand online. As a rule, I made all of their baby food from scratch, but once in a while I’d buy them those pouches of applesauce as a “treat.” The list of contradictions goes on. Fuzzy logic by any standards, but here’s the deal at my house: I’m in charge.

I’m also parenting two very different eaters. The 10-year-old prefers savory to sweet (he’ll eat leftover Middle Eastern takeout for breakfast), loves stinky blue cheeses, and puts hot sauce on everything. He’s also hitting that awkward stage where he’s not quite tall enough for his weight, if you know what I mean (our pediatrician gently described this as “disproportionate”). But he’ll go nuts for a giant plate of sautéed mushrooms, requests salad for dinner, and turns down cake, so I keep telling myself not to worry too much.

His 4-year-old brother is a complete psycho sugar addict, known to hide behind the couch shamelessly eating confiscated Easter candy. At restaurants, we have to order a separate dessert just for him—God forbid we try to get a taste of his ice cream. Sometimes we negotiate at length over what kind of a sandwich he can have for lunch: “Just bread with butter and honey,” he’ll say. I’ll say that’s okay as long as we put an egg on, too. “But, Mom,” he’ll respond, “my body is telling me that it doesn’t need protein.” This guy.

On the other hand, he’ll sometimes randomly decide to consume handful after handful of charred broccoli (?!) straight off the sheet pan. Must be a texture thing. I’ve seen him eat a quarter pound of sopressata in one sitting, so I know he’s got a palate that allows for salt, fat, and a little funk. The last time I made grilled squid, he ate half his weight, declaring, “I love the baby squid!” Okay, weirdo.

If there’s anything that pulls this nebulous philosophy together, it’s that I make sure they’re surrounded by homemade, quality food, and plenty of it. Here’s my four well-informed but arbitrary rules for feeding my children.

1. Apply the 80/20 Rule

I shop at farmers' markets at least once a week, get a weekly delivery of local produce, bread, and dry goods from Quinciple, and love nothing more than a well-stocked bulk bin section at the health food store. Most of what I eat comes from those sources. But let’s be real: There are Cheerios, Goya beans, cheese sticks, Martin’s potato rolls, and Haribo gummies in my house right now. It’s all good.

2. Try It, Then Try It Again

There are studies that say you have to offer food to a kid 10, 20, 30 times before giving up on it. I believe in that—saying no to a new food makes sense, really, especially when we’re talking about children. But when my kids see me eating something I love again and again, or when I tell them they can try it without having to finish it, magical things happen. Don’t give up.

3. Make It Together

My kids have a say in how things are prepared (sometimes): the older one has a child-safe knife he’s allowed to use to help chop things, the little guy loves to scoop and stir all the dry ingredients for banana bread, they are both allowed to doctor their own plates with a sprinkle of salt, grated cheese, ketchup, hot sauce, sour cream. Kids want to be in control—of everything. This little power move makes them feel like they’re in charge, and if they’re not being forced, they’re more inclined to enjoy whatever is in front of them.

I knew a kid in high school whose parents didn’t allow sugar in the house. No sugar. Every day after school he ate a pint of ice cream. Another good friend, no sugar, no TV. Every night (as an adult, mind you) he ate a pint of ice cream, a package of chocolate cookies, and fell asleep in front of the TV. Don’t let this happen to your child.